After The Storm
by NationOfThieves
Summary: Half of all life in the Universe wiped out with a single snap. As the Avengers reel from their losses, could a solitary stranger hold the key to their recovery? Eventual Bucky/OC, 'fix-it'. Post-Infinity War.
1. Chapter 1

**Post-Infinity War.**

 **A little set-up, minor cliffhanger. Un-beta'ed, so I hope it's okay.**

 **NoTx**

 **Chapter One: Elele**

Anathi smoothes her hand over the dark hair of the young woman sleeping in front of her. Being a nurse in Wakanda has always been difficult, even with their superior technology. Between headstrong young recruits eager to prove themselves to their King, the Wakandan Army and Dora Milaje, sprains, bruises and broken bones are a part of daily life.

This patient, however, is much different. In the Medical Center, they have come to know her as 'Elele' or 'The Sleeping One'. Two days after the great battle, as the dust settled on Wakanda, a Dora Milaje patrol discovered a young woman on the edge of the Alkama Fields. Fearing not only for her safety but also for who she may be, they brought her to the Royal Palace in Birnin Zana. With her lightly tanned skin, smart clothes and a perfect manicure, she is no fighter, that's for sure.

"Any change?" Anathi turns to find Captain Rogers standing in the doorway, arms crossed and looking as worn as she has seen him since they first met a week ago.

"I'm afraid not, Captain. Elele remains peaceful." Anathi hums as she checks her patients' vital signs with lightweight touches, exuding grace in every move.

"You know, we have a name for her now – Camille."

"I think," she smiles fondly, "until she regains her consciousness, we will know her as Elele."

Steve returns her smile as the older woman continues her work with compassion, feeling just a moment of calm wash over him as he slips out of the room and back into the hallway.

 **‡**

Natasha drops a thin folder onto the table in front of the assembled group. It's an odd one - a jigsaw puzzle made up of those left after the fight against Thanos. A grieving God, a reluctant Queen, a _racoon_ and a handful of soldiers, scientists and assassins, all not sure how or _why_ they survived.

"Before I get started, Rhodey's been keeping me up to speed on what's happening back home. It looks like Fury and Hill are gone, along with half the government. He's had no word from Stark or anyone else either, so we have to assume they're gone too." She looks immaculate as always, but her eyes betray her troubles. Perhaps the one and only time Natasha will truly ever wear her heart on her sleeve.

"He just sent this over from Washington. It took a while to get facial recognition running again, but we've worked out who our Sleeping Beauty is," Natasha informs them, as she pulls an image up on the large screen behind her. Bright, though unfamiliar, green eyes stare back at the room, as they instantly recognize the woman currently unconscious in the medical center.

"Meet Camille Jackson. 28, lives alone in Brooklyn Heights. City born and raised, she's got parents in Williamsburg and a brother in Queens. Works for Amtrak at Penn Station, no criminal history, not on any watch lists, great credit score. According to her bloodwork, no probable abilities and no latent DNA. By all accounts, she's a perfectly normal woman."

"A normal woman who shows up to a battlefield in Wakanda, calls for the Captain then passes out for a week. Who is she really?" enquires Shuri, who, despite her reluctance to fill T'Challa's shoes, has stepped into the role of the Queen of Wakanda admirably. Even if she does refuse to also take up the mantle of Black Panther.

"Right now, we have no idea, Your Highness," Steve steps in, as Shuri baulks at his address. "Okoye, we know she spoke of Bucky, what exactly did she say when you found her?" He turns to the soldier standing protectively behind her Queen.

"She was incoherent, Captain, I could only make out a few words. She definitely asked if 'Bucky had found Steve'. She asked me that twice, then collapsed. She has been this way ever since."

"Nat, did Rhodey give us anything on how she might have gotten here? Passenger manifests, security footage, anything?"

"He's securing the tapes from cameras at Penn. We know she was at work right around the time of the snap, so we should be able to find out when she left and go from there. She's not on any manifests, air or sea, but we haven't ruled out the possibility of an alias yet."

"Dr Banner, do we know how long she might be out for?"

"Difficult to say, Captain. There's no physical reason why she's unconscious. It's like her brain has just shut down to protect itself. I'd say she's been through a lot and needs time to heal from it." A scoff resonates through the quiet room.

"We've all been through a lot, but you don't see any of us taking a nap, do ya?... What?"

There isn't one person present, who thinks they could ever get used to a talking racoon.

 **‡**

As the sun sets over Wakanda's spectacular landscape, Steve Rogers finds himself transfixed on the lush green terrain below the royal balcony. It's easy to see why his best friend loved the country so much.

"Do you know, Captain," a soft yet commanding voice conveys from behind him, "that we have one of the highest life expectancy rates in the world?" Steve turns slightly to look over his right shoulder as Ramonda steps into the room. She is as poised and regal as ever, but Steve can see the exhaustion on her face as she stops at his side, her gaze following his previous line of sight.

"I didn't, no."

"Equal access to healthcare, too, paid for by taxation. We do not use fossil fuels, only clean energy from the sun and our water sources. Our scientists split the atom nearly a century before the rest of the world. Our education is free, for a student's entire time in school or university. We also have one of the highest literacy rates in the world."

Steve refocuses on the view ahead of him, wondering why he feels like he's about to be scolded. "That's very impressive, ma'am."

"Then it is a wonder to me, Captain, that you chose to bring your fight here, to nearly destroy the serenity we have worked for centuries to secure." The Queen Mother doesn't have to look at him, he can hear the disappointment in her voice. It's her next words that strike him like a sharp knife through his heart.

"He was finally at peace here. The White Wolf. He found his peace."

It's another stark reminder that he's lost his best friend for the second time and, once again, it's all his fault.

 **‡**

"Captain!" He's on his way back to his accommodation when he's met by Bruce, frantically rushing down the hallway towards him. "You gotta see this."

Steve easily matches the Doctors' hurried pace, following him through the maze of the building, back to the open room they had all gathered in earlier. It's decidedly empty this time, with only Thor, Nat, Bruce and now Steve present. The LCD screen is lit up, a video paused mid-frame. Nat stands ready, an uneasy look across her face. As Steve folds himself into a chair, she taps the play button and security camera footage fills the screen, clearly taken from a busy train station.

"Rhodey came through with the tapes from Penn. The day that we fought Thanos, Jackson was at work, like we thought. She was on a ticket reservation desk from 0730 to 1030." The video isn't anything out of the ordinary, obviously taken from a camera which pans over the main concourse of the station. Four ticket desks are clearly visible in the frame, obscured only slightly by the glass partitions separating the Amtrak employees from their customers.

Nat zooms in slightly on the second desk from the left of frame. The ticket agent is smiling as she chats to an elderly couple, her hand signals suggesting she's giving them directions. It's quite clearly the same woman they've been watching over, one Camille Jackson. As her conversation with the couple ends, she draws the partition shut, leaning a 'Position Closed' sign against it.

"She took a twenty-minute break, came back to the desk and..." Nat trails off as she forwards the video twenty minutes, then plays it again. Only this time, it's anything but ordinary. As Camille reaches over to move the sign away from the window, her hand touches nothing. She sits stunned and watches as her hands, then her arms, then her body disintegrates before her eyes, leaving no trace except a small cloud of grey dust behind. Nat pauses the video, looking around the room for a reaction.

"It's right around the same time." She doesn't need to say any more, they know what she means.

Just like their friends and allies, Camille's life was erased in a single snap of Thanos' fingers. Only now, she lies on a cot in the medical wing, comatose...but very much alive.

 **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**This might be a little confusing to start, but hopefully, there are some clues as to where it's going :)**

 **Un-beta'd, mistakes are mine.**

 **NoTx**

 **Chapter Two: The Message**

The first thought that registers in Camille's mind is that death feels a lot like floating. A sort of weightlessness in her limbs and a hollow feeling throughout her body.

She's not sure why she thinks she's dead, but there's something in the back of her mind telling her that she's no longer mortal. She's supine, she thinks, suspended in the air. There's a buzzing in her ears, her brain is racing a hundred miles a minute.

There's a man, but she can't see his face. Does she know him? She's not sure. Another man, this time she sees his mouth moving, but no sound comes out. A flash of red and a sad smile. Sunglasses. Goggles?

Silver speeds past, air whooshing around her as loud as a…train? The buzzing intensifies, swirling around her ears like a swarm of bees. The images collide like a kaleidoscope of colors, as she twists away, trying to cover her ears to shut out the noise. She's breathing hard, almost panting as the maelstrom around her tightens closer and closer.

She's distraught as she attempts to block the commotion, but her hands just won't shift. Her arms are moving away from her face as if being pulled aside by a force stronger than she is.

She hears the first thud. Then another. Then a third. It pulses in her head, like an oncoming migraine. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter to stave off the pain, but it never comes. The beats continue, rhythmically, becoming clearer with each round.

It's a voice. A man's voice. He's saying…her name?

"Camille!"

There it is again. But the men have gone, the ones with the flashes of color and words she can't hear. They're gone.

"Camille!" It's so much clearer this time, so close to her face, as if she opened her eyes he would be right in front of her.

So, she does. And he is. Blue eyes bore in her green ones. Is that empathy? She looks down, the man holding her wrists as she struggles, violently attempting to shift away from him.

"Stop…Camille, stop! You're safe. I won't hurt you."

For some reason, she believes him. As her arms go limp in his grasp, he drops his hands and leans back…but she can't be too careful. At least that's what she tells herself after she winds up and punches him squarely in the jaw. Her arms are weak, it's not the greatest defense, but self-preservation is all she has right now. He reels from the sudden move, but it clearly doesn't register any pain on his face. Perhaps it's impossible to cause pain in the afterlife?

As the man moves back towards her to sit on the edge of the bed - sensibly keeping out of striking distance - Camille takes in his full appearance. Broad-shouldered, with blonde combed-back hair and a matching beard. He's wearing all-black; a fitted t-shirt and cargo pants. He crosses his arms over his chest in what should be an intimidating pose, but his face is soft as he speaks calmly to her.

"Do you know where you are?"

Her voice is hoarse as she replies, "dead." She isn't expecting him to laugh, but a short chuckle escapes him.

Her face is sallow, dark grey forming under her eyes as sweat beads on her forehead. She pulls the blanket up higher around her chest, as if trying to cocoon herself from him. There's something about him she just doesn't trust.

"I can see why you'd think that, but no, you're not dead. You're in a hospital, in Wakanda." He slowly hands her a glass of water, allowing her to soothe her throat as she sips from the straw. Her voice is clearer when she speaks again.

"Wakan-what? Who are you?"

"My name is Steve Rogers," he replies, looking for any signs of recognition in her eyes. He finds it, but not for the obvious reason.

She freezes. Steve Rogers. She knows that name. The man. The goggles. His friend.

Rising to his feet, he asks, "what's the last thing you remember?"

What _is_ her last memory?

"Colors. Noise, so much noise. The people on the street. Stores but no signs, just people." She's not making much sense. He's growing desperate to find out how she knew of Bucky but he's pretty certain if he pushes her too far, she might crack.

"Do you know where you were?"

Images come flooding back. "The men, your friends. They said you were late. You were supposed to meet them, why didn't you meet them?"

Steve stops in his tracks, mid-way to the window. He turns, looking her square in the eye as he asks, no, _demands_ …

"What men?"

 **‡**

Camille sips from the warm mug placed into her hands a few moments ago. The drink is red and sweet, some sort of tea, she presumes. She's decided she likes the man who gave it to her much more than that Steve Rogers. His name is Bruce and he hasn't tried to interrogate her with questions, instead treating her like the confused, scared, _exhausted_ woman that she is. He sits in the corner of her room - after confirming that she is in fact in a hospital and really isn't dead - sipping from his own cup. His eyes are gentle and his voice steady, as if he knows a little something of what she's going through.

When he first arrived, she confided in him that she thinks she might be going crazy. She has all these images in her head and it's so difficult to sort the memories from the dreams, reality from fiction. He assures her she's not crazy, but he can see on her face that she's not convinced.

There are little snippets here and there that she knows to be true. Bruce has been helping her talk it out. The silver train was real. She's been to a train station before, she knows that. He mentions a name to her, someone called _Bucky_ and her face lights up in instant recognition.

"I know him. He told me that he and the goggle man were waiting for Steve Rogers. Apparently, he's a 'punk', always getting lost. I imagine that's why he was late."

"Can you remember where you spoke to Bucky?"

"At the cafe. They were sitting outside on the street, waiting...there was no sign on the front of it. The window was blurry, too. Just tables outside a gray building. Maybe it wasn't even a cafe."

"What was the street like?"

"They were all the same. No signs, no cars, just people. Lots of people. And they were _loud,_ all talking at the same time. I had to shout to talk to anyone. Oh!" Bruce says nothing, afraid to interrupt her train of thought. She needs to be able to remember by herself.

"The man in the cape. He said he 'picked me' for his message, but I can't remember it. Do you know what happened?" He can tell she's still disoriented, but that she's trying her hardest to remember.

"I don't, Camille, but it sounds pretty confusing." He's aware that his tone is veering on the edge of condescending, but he doesn't mean to be. It's just a lot to take in and he really does want to help her.

"I'm going to talk to some friends, they're going to help us figure this all out. Is it okay if I bring them to talk to you sometime?"

"I guess so. Just not the Steve Rogers man."

"I'll be back soon. Try and get some rest, okay?"

She shrugs and scoffs a little, but doesn't say any more.

As Bruce slips out into the hallway, shutting the door to the room with a soft click, he shakes his head. Camille's worried they all think she's lost it, but with his growing theory, there's a good chance the team will end up thinking _he's_ crazy.

 **‡**

Okoye and Rocket are nowhere to be found, so the group re-assembles without them; just the remaining Avengers, plus Shuri and Ramonda. As Bruce predicted, it was always going to be a struggle to convey his argument to one person in particular. After all, Natasha liked weapons and fights; real things she can get her hands on. Real enemies she can defeat.

"Trapped in a _pocket dimension_?" Nat's perched on the edge of the conference-style table. Everything about her face screams _skeptical_. She trusts Bruce - to an extent, anyway - but alternate realities might just be a little too far-fetched this time.

Thor leans back in his seat, his hands clasped in front of him, fingers steepled as he thinks. He's been reticent during his time in Wakanda, the burning need to exact revenge for his losses battles constantly with his morality - perhaps the only thing which keeps him present.

"On Asgard, we knew little of the Soul Stone. There is a long-held belief that the Stone is sentient, able to manifest a will of its own. Souls can be siphoned into the Soulworld - the pocket dimension Dr Banner speaks of."

Steve briefly considers whether to ask his next question, unsure if he wants to hear the answer.

"Do they know they're in this Soulworld?"

"No. They live a relatively idyllic, surreal life, with no awareness of their current state."

 _Idyllic_. _Surreal_. If Banner is right - Steve isn't entirely sure he is, but it's the most they have to go on right now - he's not sure which idea is harder to face. Bucky actually being dead, or him living his dream life, only to have it ripped away from him once they find out how to get their people back. Because they will bring them back. _He_ will bring them back.

"She's traumatized. How do we know she didn't hit her head, or this isn't some kind of psychotic break?" Bruce can't help but laugh a little at that. She's always the devil's advocate.

"She knows things, Nat. She knew Bucky's name. She mentioned a 'goggle man' and a 'man with a cape' - that's got to be Sam and Dr Strange, right? She talks about the place like it's a dreamscape. Endless city streets, buildings without names, no cars, just people. And we _know_ she...disintegrated during the snap. She was gone, but now she's back. How else could she have disappeared, met Bucky, Sam and Strange, then returned to this dimension? It's something to do with that stone."

A silence descends over the room as the Doctors' words sink in.

Ramonda's sadness is profound, evident from the day T'Chaka passed away, growing with each loss she faces. As she looks to Bruce, he realizes it is not just pain she feels, but sorrow.

"How is she? If what you speak is true, she must have had quite the ordeal, Doctor."

"Physically she's fine, but she's confused. It's obvious in the way she speaks. She doesn't make sense a lot of the time like she's trying to vocalize every thought she's having, every memory lodged in her brain, this need to say them all out loud." His hands are almost claw-like in front of him, as he tries to emphasize the situation. "She's lost."

Ramonda rises to her feet, her dress sweeping around her legs as she moves towards the door. Shuri is quick to follow her, seemingly sharing her mother's distress for the situation. As they reach the exit, where Steve idles with his arms crossed, Ramonda levels him with a hard stare.

"Then, we will take care of her. It is our way." With that, the royal duo is gone.

Steve lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding; Ramonda's contempt for him is obvious. He throws his next question out to the room.

"She asked Okoye if Bucky had found me. That has to mean something, right? That's how she's ended up here, looking for me?"

Bruce shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I'm not so sure, Captain."

"Go on."

"Camille says the man in the cape told her he 'picked her'. We know that's Strange - he _chose_ Camille to be the one to relay his message. I think he sent her back here, to find you." His face is stern, mouth twisted into a slight grimace.

"Now we just need to know what his message is."

 **TBC.**


End file.
